Lighthouse
by FinchelXForever
Summary: He knew he shouldn't even look. It had nothing to do with him. Both of those people existed in an entirely different place. A different universe really. They couldn't have less in common. They'd shared a past over seven years ago. She hadn't chosen him. They were over. Nothing. Finn's life was happy and full in Lima until Rachel visits and upsets his easy equilibrium.
1. Chapter 1

Finn hated everything about the supermarket.

He despised the awfulness of the fluorescent lights that shone overhead flooding everything with a creepy sheen. He couldn't stand the fluctuating temperatures, one minute Arctic cold in the freezer section, followed by clammy humidity of the produce section. He hated the monotony of doing the same thing every week, wishing the food in his refrigerator would just refill itself. And Finn wasn't sure if this was true for everyone or just his unfortunate experience but he was guaranteed to always bump into one of the chatty old ladies he knew from the hospital or volunteering with the soup van causing his shopping excursion to drag out even longer. It really bothered Finn that despite their complaints about how busy they were, they seemed to have so much time to talk.

Finn especially hated the overwhelming choice, which was how he found himself staring blankly at cereal. It had been bad enough choosing toilet paper. Two ply. Three ply. Cottonelle. Quilted. Environmentally friendly. Whatever.

And he knew he'd been in the cereal aisle too long but he was stuck staring at the lurid coloured cereal boxes with confusion. There were just so many boxes. And so many colours. Purples and reds, yellows and greens. Should any of them contain such violently bright green, he wondered. That couldn't be good for anyone. But then again, he had inhaled Lucky Charms and Frosted Flakes by the wheelbarrow load as a kid and even now as a grown up too and it hadn't done him any harm. At least, he didn't think so.

On the other hand wasn't frosted just ad speak for sugar covered. Finn knew sugar wasn't good for kids. Sugar highs weren't something easily forgotten. These days the memory of sticky pink cotton candy was more of recurring nightmare that he mightn't recover from. He imagined Lucky Charms chewed up and spat on his dining room floor. That was a likely outcome. Or worse, vomited all over any of his shirts like the vicious pink slushie stain that now eternally graced his favourite Henley. None of those experiences beared repeating.

He supposed Marley also remembered the pink stain and the vomit and the white shirt that she'd apologetically scrubbed a hole in even though the vomit wasn't her fault and that was why she had instructed him more strictly this time. Toast, she'd said. More specifically, wholemeal toast with scrambled egg. Or grilled cheese. Stick with his strengths. She'd laughed at his basic breakfast incompetence despite his previous life of Afghanistan tour of duty's. Finn wasn't offended though, he knew he deserved her good humoured scorn.

Feeling incredibly guilty about the vomit, not to mention the tugging of his heartstrings at hearing the tiny sobs, he always listened to Marley's careful and deliberate instructions now.

But, still, wholemeal toast was so boring. And healthy. And he wasn't going down the baked bean route. His conscience fought with his sense of adventure as he dutifully placed porridge into the cart. Since he had some straight from the hive honey Brittany had given him he could liven it up with that. And no doubt he'd regret it but he tossed some Fruity Pebbles in as well. Everyone deserved a sugary treat occasionally, he thought, wincing internally.

Taking stock of the contents of the cart; cereal, porridge, toilet paper, whole milk, cheese, raspberries and bananas, Finn decided he was done and steered towards the checkout. He joined a line and decided that queueing was another reason he hated shopping. He'd been caught out before, swapping and changing queues, and nothing good had come of it. A short queue just meant that a customer in that line would have some stupid issue, need an item price checked or would form a close and personal bond with the checkout person and their secrets needed to be shared right there and then. Being patient was the only way to get through this domestic nightmare.

Waiting behind a lady with a cart piled so high with canned goods he assumed there was an apocalypse coming he was unaware of, Finn slumped over the front of his own cart and took a withering look at the tabloids calling out to him to impulse buy. He scoffed at stories that announced in bold letters that aliens were spotted in Columbus and that Elvis wasn't dead, but alive and well, recouping his fortune at Bingo nights in Ohio. His eye was drawn away from ridiculous news to mostly mean headlines on the magazines fronting the celebrity gossip. Capturing his attention were grainy pictures of a couple that dug a hole in his stomach and scratched at his throat.

 _Bickering on Broadway._ He knew he shouldn't even look. It had nothing to do with him. Both of those people existed in an entirely different place. A different universe really. They couldn't have less in common. They'd shared a past over seven years ago. She hadn't chosen him. They were over. Nothing. So, Finn had locked that person in a cage, and draped a black curtain over that cage and shoved that cage to the darkest part of his brain.

But that person was _Rachel Berry._ No, Finn corrected himself. That person was _Rachel St. James._

Finn picked up the magazine despite his best interests. It wouldn't hurt to look. And he wasn't going to read the article. Just look at the headlines. Just look at the cover.

The picture might have been grainy but he could see that it was Rachel and Jesse in the street outside a New York City brownstone. Alone, singular pictures could be taken out of context. But together the series depicted an argument.

Arms wide apart, tense stance, head rigid, jaw tight, Rachel was mad. It was still all familiar to him. Flashbacks to furious high school Rachel hit Finn in a visceral way. Even worse, the bitterness of their last fight washed over him. He tasted bile.

It was none of his business. Rachel and Jesse were none of his business. Their fights were nothing to do with him. He didn't care.

 _Except for when he did. Sometimes, and he would die before he would admit it, the cage that he'd imprisoned her memory in would show up at the forefront of his brain. The black cape draped over the cage would rise with a flourish and freaking Rachel Berry, because in his brain she would always be Rachel Berry, would be freed, standing on top like a magician doing an old Houdini trick._

Angrily, he stuffed the magazine back in the rack.

"I wouldn't have thought that trash filled rag would interest you, Finn Hudson."

Startled, Finn swung around bumping his hip in the sharp edge of the shopping cart. Rubbing the ache, Finn was stunned to see Rachel standing behind him holding a basket. Never having the quickest wit, Finn was surprised how easily he quipped, "I just think those Kardashian women deserve better boyfriends, don't you?"

Rachel's face didn't hide her scepticism at his lie, but Finn purposely kept his face blank. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of any emotion, not happiness, not surprise, not shock, not after the way they parted.

"Are your Dad's ok?" Finn could think of no other reason why Rachel would have come back to the town where she clearly had never belonged.

"They are fine. I just have some business to take care of. I'm staying with them for a few weeks and needed to pick up some essentials."

Finn nosily peeked into the basket she was clutching tightly. "Organic peanut butter. Almond milk. Blueberries. Coconut water. Green tea. Essentials. Right."

He was aware he was being abrupt. Rude even. It was too easy. He started loading his groceries onto the conveyor belt. It gave him something to do and he didn't have to look at Rachel's face. Her undeniably beautiful face.

Rachel bristled, her voice pitched high. "They are essential to me." In retaliation her head tilted, indicating the Fruity Pebbles, "Still eating like a four year old, I see."

"Yep," Finn nodded sagely, ignoring how close to the truth she was. Rachel was insignificant. She didn't need to know anything about Finn's life. "You know me. Nothing ever changes with me. Same old Finn."

"I'm sure that's not true."

Finn recognised the conciliatory tone. It was used with a baited statement designed to open him up. And seven years ago it would have worked, and Finn would've laid himself bare to Rachel for a dose of her sympathy kisses and sweet supportive words, but Finn was older now.

He shrugged, not committing either way. "So, it was nice to see you, Rachel," Finn smiled at the checkout operator and handed her the money and put his paper bag back into the cart, "But I really have somewhere to be. Someone waiting for me, you know."

"Sure," Rachel sounded choked up but gave Finn a wide smile. He could not forget how good an actress she was. "Have a nice night, Finn."

Caging Rachel back into the dark recesses of his brain Finn pushed the cart over to his truck, putting the bag of groceries on the passenger seat. He slotted the cart into the conga line home of the other carts.

He drove to his destination from the supermarket, knowing the route to Marley's cute little cottage in his sleep and without a single thought of Rachel. He had more important stuff crowding her out.

An infectious wide ass grin that couldn't be helped lit up Finn's face as he knocked on the front door. Smiling, as a harried looking Marley answered the door, he leant down and kissed her on the cheek, "Hey, Mama Rose."

"Hi Finn," she smiled back, returning to work, collecting up the toys littering the floor and putting them in the pink boxes scattered strategically around the room. "Thanks for this, by the way. I wouldn't have asked because I hate screwing with the schedule but Renee was sick and I have to be available for night shifts to have any hope of a promotion."

"It's cool, Marley. You know I'm always here for you. Whatever you need. You'll be a great head nurse. That promotion is definitely yours." Finn helped her pick up the room and headed down the hall to the pale yellow room he'd helped paint.

Finn watched from the doorway as his daughter's body, taut with tension, stacked coloured blocks carefully on top of each other. He couldn't help the peal of laughter escaping as the little girl huffed with frustration as the tower of blocks she'd painstakingly built toppled over.

"Daddy, you here!"

Finn scooped up his baby, smothering kisses on her head, on both of her rosy cheeks and the tip of her button nose. "Mia. My Mia. _Mia Cara._ My darling."

"Daddy! Daddy! Stop. Tickles!" Mia's joyful giggles strangled Finn's heart. She was impossible not to love. With her soft mop of brown hair, tiny fingers and toes and dark eyes, Mia owned Finn's heart.

"You ready for a sleepover at Daddy's house?" He rearranged Mia onto his shoulders and bent to pick up her overnight bag. She wrapped her arms around Finn's neck, rested her pudgy fists against his cheeks and her chin on the top of his head.

"Yes, Daddy," Mia replied, lovingly, "I ready."

* * *

 ** _Just a quick edit in response to dumb reviews. Obviously Finn and Rachel are going to end up together. That's why it's in the finchel tag._**


	2. Chapter 2

"Ryder roo!" Mia exclaimed, using the alliterative nickname she'd adopted for Marley's boyfriend.

"Mia moo!" Ryder's response was full of the affection he'd developed for the loveable little girl.

Mia toddled inside the open front door and clambered up Ryder's leg, with the help of a well executed boost, giving him a smacking kiss before wriggling out of his arms to investigate her packed away toy box. Finn followed Mia inside, handing Ryder Mia's bag and her stuffed rabbit, Rudy.

"Hey, man," Finn said, "Mia got strawberry jam on her yellow shirt. I rinsed it out and sprayed it with stain remover but didn't have time to put it through the wash and I know it's her favourite at the moment and I'm on the nightshift for the next two so its in a plastic bag in the left pocket."

"Thanks, Finn. I'll chuck it through a hot cycle."

Finn and Ryder looked at each other with duel amusement at their domestic back and forth. With the advent of fatherhood, Finn found his conversations consisted less of football, beer and women and more of washing machine cycles, storytime and sleep schedules.

"We can get a dog, Ryder?" Mia's question was phrased as a demand. She confronted Ryder with her hands on her hips, her face showing the serious intent of someone who knew what they wanted and wouldn't take no for an answer. "Bessie had babies. We sawed them and Brittany said they can be mine. They runned funny. And we saw sheeps. Daddy said we can't have a sheeps. We can get a dog but?"

Ryder grimaced at Finn. "I don't know, Mia moo. That's a big decision. We might have to ask Mommy about that."

"Mommy say yes. Where mommy?" Mia asked, changing the subject like only a three year old could, not waiting for an answer before she tiptoe walked down the hallway in search of her mom.

Finn face screwed up, cringing inwardly, but he felt only slightly guilty. "I took Mia to Brittany's farm to see the ducklings. She loved feeding them. I didn't realise there would be puppies."

"Marley will never forgive you," Ryder shook his head, in disdain, looking around at their tiny overstuffed cottage, "Bessie is a English sheepdog. She's huge so her puppies will be gigantic. And puppies chew everything."

"Is Marley still asleep?" Finn asked, replicating the change of subject tactic that Mia had pulled off but as a deliberate strategy.

Ryder explained, clapping Finn on the shoulder in the brotherly manner they'd easily fallen into. "She was green when she got home from work. Couldn't stop vomiting. But she feels better now. Just tired."

"She probably caught what Renee had. She's always doing her paperwork and fixing her mistakes. No wonder Marley is exhausted."

"I know, you're right." Ryder sighed, walking through the house to the kitchen where he started drying the dishes with Finn following suit, putting away what he'd already dried, since he knew where everything went, "I just wish I could be home more."

"It's not like you've been absent, Ryder. You been logging those flying hours. Working towards a goal. Marley gets it, dude. There's FaceTime and texting. We're all doing our best."

Finn was reassuring Ryder, but also reassuring himself. Their blended family was doing good, thats what Emma had told them in family counselling. He guessed that was because all any of them wanted was the best for Mia. And the best thing for Mia as it happened were loving adults who respected each other. Finn knew that it was easier to be a tight unit when there weren't any repressed feelings, or broken hearts in their little family.

Marley and he were consenting adults, seeking comfort to their respective traumas which led them to make a drunken mistake. Finn and Marley were too similar, too logical, too introspective to realise they could have a love affair. Especially when they were both aware that Finn was in love with someone else. And Ryder hadn't shown up in their lives until their daughter was born and both of her parents had established a friendly dynamic with Mia at its centre. Ryder had slotted in with relative ease.

Not always easy but worth it, that's what Finn thought. So many people in their lives to love Mia. She held so many hearts in her hands. And really, she sutured Finn's heart back together. Kept it from fracturing again.

"Ok, so in a similar vein of Marley and expectations," Ryder's face lit up, as he continued in a whisper, "Do you want to see what I picked up in Chicago?"

"Yeah, man, of course," Finn replied, because he knew what Ryder was talking about. They'd discussed it at length. What it meant for their family, what it meant for the future. And even if it wasn't complete clear, wasn't completely resolved, they'd always ploughed headfirst anyway, figuring it out as they went.

Ryder checked on Mia to see if the coast was clear and chuckled. "Mia's curled up with Marley asleep. Super cute."

"It's time for her nap anyway," Finn replied as Ryder retrieved the small velvet box from his pilots jacket. Nestled inside was teardrop shaped diamond that Ryder had painstakingly saved up for, designed and now collected.

"Thats great, Ryder, beautiful. Marley is going to love it."

"Are you sure?" he asked, still doubting himself. Finn was glad of his need for self reassurance. It meant that Marley, and in turn Mia were in good hands. Ryder would never stop trying to make them happy.

"Yes," Finn said, "Marley won't even have to think about it. The ring is exactly what she likes. You're exactly who she wants."

"Thanks, Finn. And you're still all good with this? Me and Marley?"

Finn would have never have had a happy ever after with Marley. The notion was ridiculous to him but he liked Marley. Marley was a really great Mom. She was a good person, a compassionate person. A selfless and giving nurse. Finn loved her like a friend and appreciated that they'd gone through stuff together and come out on the other side. "I'm great with you and Marley."

"Thanks Finn," Ryder said, adding as an afterthought, "Can't wait 'til you find your Marley."

Problem was, Finn knew, was that his Marley had been Rachel. And now it was dust.

"Sure," Finn's smile was tight lipped but he quipped lightheartedly, "You never really know what the criminal element of Lima have in store for you. One of them may be marriage material."

Finn knew he shouldn't have joked about crime in Lima because it always came back to bite him on the ass. Since he'd walked in the station and sat at his desk all he'd done was process shoplifting youth offenders. He didn't know if it were because it was the summer and kids were roaming freely, or because of a shift in the country dynamics but kids were pinching shit from all over town.

He'd have to consult someone. Maybe Will. Mr Berry. Put together a taskforce. Hold a town meeting. Retailers were going to have him by the balls. It was times like this he wished he hadn't applied to be the youth liaison officer, except it was a step up in his career. And a pay rise. Mia's clothes, toys and day care were expensive.

Finn rubbed his temples in frustration after filing the paperwork on his last miscreant. Stolen candy. Pointless.

"Hey, Finn," Karofsky bellowed, "Ms Sylvester reported a 10-62 at 1541 St Lucia Lane. She said she saw both Mr Berries leave this morning but their has been an unfamiliar car in the drive for two days. Perp description is short, dressed in all black, crop top, yoga pants, wearing a ball cap. Probably female adolescent. You wanna take it?"

10-62. Breaking and entering in progress. 1541 St Lucia Lane was the Berries' house. Adolescent sized offender. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

"You're going to regret teaching Ms Sylvester all those police codes, Karofsky," Finn shook his head, annoyed at Dave's lack of foresight and then felt his heart beat faster, his blood start to hum through his veins. Unsure what he was doing and why, he nodded, "Yeah, I'll go."

* * *

 ** _I know, no Rachel in this chapter. She's the whole next chapter though. And all the rest of the story._**


	3. Chapter 3

Finn shifted the patrol car into gear and reversed it out of the station parking lot. Automatically he set course for the Berry's grand home, lamenting the fact that he still knew the route off by heart. Not only off by heart but also branded into his subconscious even though for years he'd avoided all possible intersections and refused to pass by unless necessity dictated. He'd drive for an extra five minutes, sit in traffic or find a long way round to avoid being reminded of Rachel.

But even blindfolded, he bet he could still find his way there.

Muscle memory was a bitch. As a soldier it had probably saved his life too many times to count, but right now, as a man, it was a complete bitch.

It wasn't a long drive. One of the perks and also the drawbacks of living in a small town was that everything was close by. His place to the station took seven minutes. Marley's cottage to his apartment took nine minutes. And the station to the Berry's took exactly eight and a half minutes.

Pulling into the Berry's drive, Finn took a deep breath and removed the keys from the ignition.

Pocketing his badge and keys and securing his vehicle, Finn approached the front of the house with caution. Even though he had a fair idea of the identity of the alleged intruder, his cop instincts kicked in and he made sure he observed the area for any damage, or peculiarity that might indicate something more sinister than a clumsy occupant locking themselves out of their own home.

Noting nothing out of the ordinary on the porch, Finn crept around to the side of the house where he saw Rachel. He assumed she had climbed the huge oak tree and used a precarious looking branch as a tightrope in an attempt to jimmy open a porthole window. Because her top half was now stuck inside the window with her pert Lycra clad butt hung outside.

Her feet dangled too far off the ground for her to drop without a possible injury and she was too grown now to squeeze in through the small opening.

"Rachel, it's Finn, Finn Hudson," Finn called to her, and then grimaced at his stupidity, knowing Rachel knew who he was but he had to be professional surely, "I mean, it's Officer Finn Hudson. You appear to require some assistance."

"You think?" Rachel had never let sarcasm be a valid response. She was direct, and explicit, even scathing but barely ever sarcastic. But he imagined she had changed. He had.

"I'm going to have to touch you?" he asked for consent while coming to terms with the fact that he would actually have to touch her. He couldn't remember when he touched her last. Years ago and yet it seemed like yesterday. In between that time he'd had a baby and she had married and there lay too many broken hearts.

"Yes, I'm aware," Rachel was annoyed but desperate, "But, I'd very much like to get down, please."

"Okay, I'm going to help you now," Finn swallowed hard, and put his arms around Rachel's bare waist, lifting her down and providing her with a safe landing. He held her body as far away off his as possible and left her to face the bricks of the building. Pulling his hands away as if they'd burn, he could feel the wanton need to touch her so bad it itched inside. He stepped back, adding distance between them.

"You can't just break into your own home here, Rachel. This isn't New York. People actually care for their neighbours and call the authorities," Finn lectured. He found taking an offical tone let him to maintain a distance from her.

Rachel turned and gave him a withering look. "Thanks for the advice," she said, dusting herself off, "You can go now."

Finn was reluctant to leave knowing Rachel would probably just climb the tree again. Stubborn people never learned. He sighed.

"Look," he followed her through the side gate and into the back yard. "Do you want me to call your Dad's? They won't mind coming home and letting you in."

Rachel bit her lip in frustration. "I didn't want to disturb them. They already have enough on their plate without me adding to their workload. I thought I could manage."

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Rachel."

Finn's face scrunched in annoyance because he didn't want it to be so obvious that his life with Rachel was so present, so visceral to him.

"Remember your Dad used to keep a spare key inside here?" Finn fished around inside the soil of the third potted ficus and retrieved the ziplock bag with the back door key.

"Oh, yes!" Rachel was jubilant, and he felt her sunshine gaze upon him. But just as quickly her wide smile shut down as Finn's expression smoothed over as their memories lay bare. "You used it when you'd sneak over and share my bed."

"That was a long time ago," Finn's truth stopped her reverie. "Before you became a star."

Rachel stilled and reached for the key, snatching it from Finn, angry. She marched inside, tears welling and threatening to spill. Finn followed Rachel into the Berry's gourmet kitchen that had been tastefully updated in his absence. She sucked on a finger, then ran it under the running faucet.

"Splinter," she managed to say, reaching under the sink for the first aid kit. Rachel wasn't a good patient but she'd push through pain barriers if it meant winning. Finn was reminded of her dance rehearsal blisters, spending hours rubbing lotion into her scarred feet, while she didn't complain once.

Wordlessly, he opened the first aid kit and set out tweezers and disinfectant, gauze and a bandaid. He pulled at the splinter with the tweezers, removing most of the wood in one shot. He dabbed at the wound with the disinfectant soaked gauze and scraped it open to remove any remnants of the splinter. Finn finished off the minor treatment with more disinfectant and wrapped the bandaid around to stop any infection from creeping in. Through his ministrations Rachel watched him, her eyes trained on his actions. His big hands working, holding hers.

He couldn't help noting she smelled like jasmine and the same apple shampoo she'd always used.

Finn stepped back, as Rachel shook her finger to send the blood flow away from the pain centres.

"You hurt me," Rachel complained lightly, but Finn knew sometimes minor inconveniences were there for long term gain. That's what he told himself a lot when his decisions were about Rachel.

"You hurt me too," Finn shot back, not knowing why he continued to be antagonistic. "You married Jesse."

Rachel glared at him and through gritted teeth she bit out, slowly, emphasising each word for impact, "You. Left. Me."

"I.." Finn started but was interrupted.

"No!" Rachel exclaimed, furious, and Finn had to admit she was right to be. "No Finn. No excuses or reasons or justifications. You left me. You dumped me at the train station. You left me stranded in New York. You joined the army. Changed your number and erased Facebook and twitter. You got sent away for two years. You never wrote. I didn't know if you were dead or alive. I had to bug Kurt for any kind of update. You shut me out."

"I came back," Finn whispered.

"You're kidding, aren't you?" Rachel made a humourless sound that he thought was supposed to be a laugh. "You came to see me after two years to tell me you were leaving again. That you'd signed up for another tour of duty and I had to get on with my life. You came back to tell me nothing changed! That's what you call 'coming back'?"

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry," Rachel was seething. She leaned against the kitchen counter, her fingers gripping the edge with such force that he could see them becoming mottled. "Now! Now you're sorry. When you finally got back from Afghanistan, after another two years away, Kurt wasn't even allowed to tell me about your Purple Heart and how you nearly died. I only found out because my Dad's sent me the clipping from the Lima News. But you still didn't respond to any of my letters. Or emails. Or my engagement announcement. Or my wedding invitation. So, Finn Hudson, I got married. Because that's what people do. I waited for you. For years. You left me behind."

Finn let Rachel lay it all out because she was right. He'd bought it all on himself. His decisions and her choices, his choices and her decisions had pinged off of each other like an arcade pinball machine, randomly setting each other off, hitting the sides and springing back, smashing into things and flinging back.

As her speech came to its natural conclusion Finn found himself enveloping Rachel in his arms. Wrapped up in each other felt so natural, their mutual comfort was so familiar.

"I didn't think you needed me." Finn could feel Rachel's shoulders shaking, the wracking sobs. He was crying too.

But the warmth between them was calming. Finn has always been happiest in Rachel's arms.

Her voice was muffled but her words were hot against his chest. "Love isn't about need, Finn. You left me to become who I needed to be and you showed me I didn't need anyone else. And you were right, I was fine on my own. Until I wasn't. Love is about wanting someone, not needing them. It's making a choice. You never let me choose."

Rachel disentangled herself from Finn's arms and wiped away a rogue tear, she reached for a tissue blowing her nose with a loud honking sound. The absurdity of the situation hit both of them at the same time and they doubled over laughing.

"I'm getting divorced." Rachel's confession halted their mirth.

"God, I'm so sorry, Rachel." Finn was sorry for everything. He couldn't stop apologising. He started to wonder if he'd ever stop being sorry. Because he was also not sorry. Things hadn't worked out with Rachel. But then, if they had, he wouldn't have his Mia.

She shrugged, as if it were no big deal. Finn knew it was a big deal. He wanted to know why. He didn't want to ask.

"Jesse loved having me as a muse. He directed me in Funny Girl. I won a Tony. I was his inspiration. As it turns out, he had lots of inspiration. My understudy, the choreographer. And apparently I should just accept that. That's how its done in the theatre. That's showbiz." Rachel let out a bitter little laugh. "It seems I'm naive."

"He is gaslighting you, Rachel."

Rachel eyes widened. He was smarter now. He'd studied psychology both in person and at school since he'd been home. He wished that was something she knew.

"My Dad is processing my divorce." Rachel thumbed through the thick file on the counter. "That's why I'm home. I have to get this done in a month. Mutual assets need to be sold and divided. Finances need to be dissolved. Decisions need to be made."

"That sounds..." Finn searched for a word that adequately described the situation, managing the simplistic, "That sounds rough."

She assented with a nod. "It is."

Finn liked talking to Rachel. He knew it wouldn't all be pleasant but he wanted to know about the seven years he'd missed. His usual conversations were about Mia. Or his job. Sometimes he felt stuck. Being with Rachel, discussing their missing years made Finn feel like an adult.

Going backwards, to Finn, seemed like a good way forward.

He took a risk. "Rachel, would you like to have dinner with me sometime?"

* * *

 _Sorry if this story isn't your cup of tea? Also, im not a reliable author. one day i will finish hopefully. Sorry!_


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